Model Behavior
by SweetJustice
Summary: Kise Ryouta has the world, but to Kasamatsu Yukio: he is his world. A KiKasa fic.
1. Prelude

Ambivalence was the proper word to designate what emotions the Kaijo captain had laid to display. A single anomaly had thrown a wrench in all he had learned-all that he had been brought up to believe was proper and moral. To which should he blame such confusion to derive remained unfathomed even to him. All he could remember was flashing lights embellishing the figure of a man, vibrant and poise. Deep-set eyes and feathered lashes were distinguishable attributes that came in the set complimenting full lips. Gleaning that very detail, roused by the sound of cameras snapping shots, marveled by the features that subconsciously drew him in, he had thought to himself:

"What would it be like to kiss those lips...?"

"What was that?" A melodious musing came responding to a thought he left impermeable to his vacant mind. Kasamatsu's head lifted, regrettably greeting those pools of honey. As always, the blonde deemed so amiable in his presence. Cheeks felt like they were burning just then, beckoning for his retreat come the shove of a hand to that fine-looking face.

"I said why did you drag me on this trip?" _Liar._ If there was one thing that brought complete and total failure to Kasamatsu Yukio, it were the art of the fib. The model proved to be more perceptive than he would so gallantly let off. The key was in the manner those narrow brows crinkled in, irises subject to the option of extrapolation.

Why did he choose to tag along to a photo shoot of all things? His social skills with females was designated nothing above utter crap and Kise was often flocked by them in the masses. He managed to remain within the category of mundane, watching the younger from against the wall on the other far end of the room. Yet each moment a make-up artist whether male or female did approach and spoke in gestures unrelated to the shoot or what looked to be with expression of figurative motions, he found himself squinting-brows knitting and that frown adorning no effort in holding back what envy may have caused. 

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Yosh, I'm back trying something a little different for the world to witness. My writing skills are rather choppy, but it surely I will get around to the point of some decent progress. Why not share it with a KiKasa fic, eh? Not sure how long this story will end up, but this is just a preview of the emotional roller coaster to come. I hope you like enjoy this prelude!_


	2. Signs

"Senpai, you're making that face again-ssu~" His very utterance like a siren he couldn't detangle himself from. He managed to do as he initially prompted, however: he got his attention.

A thick brow rose, offering a skeptical glance to the blonde in question. Just what was he on about this time? He swore to the heavens if it had been another crack about his grimacing expression, he'd make work of that pretty face of his. Masochistically curious for the dose of attention, the Kasamatsu did retort. "Oh? That face being?" He half expected something whimsical and stupid to follow. He shouldn't assume so much.

"That captivating one; I can't stop staring~"

Was this his way of making a joke? Sure as hell wasn't funny. Had he not known better, he'd mistake it as flirting. But to someone as popular as Kise Ryouta, an ordinary person like him were nothing more than a statistic. The more he attempted to process those giddy gestures of an ever-loving kouhai, the greater he had grown irritated on the topic all together. Sterling optics set to hinder his sight of the path before him on their usual commute home, features accented with the tinge of rose that once plagued him before. Lips parted in laborious rebuttal.

"Then just take a picture, dumb ass!"

Silence came so thick a blade could sever it. Hues slowly peeling open, relieved by the mistaken serenity, it had been the insistent prodding in his gut that steered him to set gaze to the model beside him. Mouth practically agape and orbs set a wide; god damn it, he introduced the model a reverie. Regret was his placement. And hindsight was a bitch. A notable bead of sweat trickled alongside the temple and reluctance became the lesser of two evils. Say nothing. Just roll with it and there would be no problems. One more step ahead and every tactical thought went spiraling down the drain with the rise of his tone.

"-Can I!?"

"Go to Hell." 

* * *

His entire evening went flying by, sitting at the kotatsu slouching over with a palm propping up his head by the chin. The usually intense expression people hand known him for been replaced by an episode of listlessness. Flicking his thumb, attempting to twirl his mechanical pencil in full rotation, his depth of daze muddled his focus and before he knew it he sound of a voice caught his focus.

"Ouch..." A fellow senior, and best friend of the Kaijo captain sat across from him, rubbing his eye from the eraser end of a stationary projectile. He kept the pencil in his grasp, believing with enough evidence that Kasamatsu was no longer fit for handling tools. "Third time's a charm; what's up with you?" Graphite oculars deemed it appropriate to stare the other down. Kasamatsu's initial response would have been to snap back in some negation. Moriyama knew his friend well. And the man sitting across from him was practically a stranger to him.

"Hm? Oh-it's nothing." Kasamatsu assures, motioning his hand to write only to finally realize the absence of his writing utensil. Anxiety from entrance exams? This verdict being what Kobori had guessed, but with Moriyama-oh, there always had to be a catch. Who would have imagined the pathetic handsome guy to be so acute?

A man with a plan: that good ol' Moriyama. Charming smirk tucked to his lips, musing himself in closer to the matter of subject being Kasamatsu. Almond shaped hues squinting to fine crescents, collecting far too much joy in the matter than he should. An innocent jest traveled the air just to pinpoint the level of variance that came in package of a true tsundere.

"I heard you went to Kise's photo shoot, yesterday. Did you see any cute girls?"

He shrugged, feigning lack of interest. "No one in particular."

"Oh, come on! They're _models_ ~"

"And when they go home: they're people just like us."

The two had fell to a moment of exchanging glares. Stubbornness unbridled on both ends. This is usually how their bouts began and launched toward the summit. Each time, much more revealed to each other on just how formidable they were to one another. But Moriyama held the advantage this round. Not ever in his years of knowing Kasamatsu, did he ever witness the uncertainty worn on his countenance. Something was there, but did he want to reach it? 

* * *

**Author's Note:** _Hello and thank you for tuning in this far. As you can see, I thrive on suspense. Making people wait is an accidental specialty of mine. Working a bit on my tsundere muse for Kasamatsu. It's probably a little off from what I usually could come up with. I decided to add Moriyama to butt in as an instigator to the situation because best friends are natural to want to get all in that sort of business. I'll attempt to make the next chapter longer. At this point, I'm simply writing this all on a whim. I appreciate the support and feedback is always welcomed._


End file.
